Firas
Firas Duskspire is a quick tongued student of fel magic, having taken up the arts relatively late in his life. Quick to learn when he manages to give an effort, this underachiever would be content to laze about Silvermoon if the drums of conflict did not rumble so often throughout Azeroth. As such, he has picked up the stave and prepares to put himself at use for the Horde. However, one to put words before swords most of the time, the blood elf enjoys dishing out a tongue lashing over an actual lashing when he can. Firas mostly blends in with his surroundings. His back can often be found against a wall, his gaze set either at his feet or at the passerby; nothing seems interesting about this civilian-- until he steps forward and opens his mouth. An opportunity at a roguish quip or snide remark never misses Firas' judgement, he finds no greater joy than to see those around him curl their lips into a grin. His voice carries all the mirth of a bard, he'd be one to serenade the masses were it not that his voice is so off pitch. Still, what his voice lacks in beauty is made up in substance; his tone always conveys a very real sense of emotion, he is the very opposite of a monotone. He has confidence without cockiness, though, this is not to say he never finds himself at a loss for words. In fact, when pressed on a serious matter, Firas tends to lean to the latter when 'fight or flight' kicks in. His attitude holds true to his looks, for the most part. A smooth mane of light-brown hair drapes just past his shoulders, perhaps a little shorter than how so many of the other elves wear their hair. Dark green eyes contrast against the light skin and softer features that define his face. His large mouth seemed almost to hold too many teeth, the banana grin he so often wears reveals a swath of white chompers. Perhaps an appropriate resemblance could be drawn from a very friendly crocolisk. A glance could tell that he was not an age of wisdom, perhaps more an age more of debauchery. His well built shoulders give the elf an unusually muscular physique for a spell caster, though hadn't much of an idea of how to put it to use. His wide chest leads down to a waist that was more appropriately sized for a magister, finally ending with a pair of legs and feet that were not much to speak of. A brief excerpt from the warlock's journal "Damn, and here I thought that this was a nice neighborhood. I come into my room, only to find that the place had been ransacked! Chests all searched through, bookshelf disheveled and unorganized, crimson sheets torn from the bed-- I mean, sheets?! Like I'm hiding a stash of gold coins in my mattress?! I'm not some bloody goblin! Luckily, most of what was taken is replaceable. A few common books, a very stylish jacket, and a little trinket that I purchased in the Lower City, though I'm not sure that the thing worked in the first place... All in all I should probably consider myself lucky that I keep most of my valuables in arms' reach. Probably just some wretched scrounging around for mana gems or the like. I'll need to look into ways to keep this place locked magically. I'm sure I have a book about it. Somewhere..." Category:Blood Elf Category:Horde Warlock